


A Letter for Toya

by EvilReceptionistOfDoom



Series: Hunters [5]
Category: Seirei no Moribito | Guardian of the Sacred Spirit
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Fluff, Forgiveness, Gen, Messengers, Post-Series, Slice of Life, commoner life, convenience-store couple, making up backstory, other characters mentioned but not actually in the story, sentimental assassin, shopkeepers, what characters do in their spare time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 07:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8788657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilReceptionistOfDoom/pseuds/EvilReceptionistOfDoom
Summary: In which "Chief" makes amends for Toya's almost getting burned alive at the watermill.





	

Zen knew every street in the city - every alleyway, every canal, every spot a man might wait inconspicuous, every place a victim might hide.  He knew the errand-runner's shop as well, and didn't need to think about the way there as he strolled down the road in the outfit of a commoner, carrying a package from the palace.  It was still early morning, so there were few people out: a peddler selling bento boxes to the fishermen as they cast off, groups of men going to the fields or to construction sites.  A few of these waved at him, vaguely recognizing him but not knowing from where.  Zen smiled and waved back, but once they passed by his face returned to its natural scowl.  
    He wondered what the boy's reaction would be.  Toya, Zen knew, would remember 'Chief' and the hunters who had nearly scared the boy into burning himself alive.  Really the person to deliver the package should have been one of the three of their number that Toya hadn't seen - but Zen, hearing the job, had volunteered himself.  He was curious.  He liked the errand-runner and wished to show the boy that he harbored no ill will.  Really, Toya represented all the best characteristics a young man could have: ingenuity, hard work, bravery, all the sort of qualities Zen hoped to find in his own son someday.  The night the watermill burned, Zen had convinced Mon to let Toya escape for precisely that reason.  And now that the spearwielder was their ally, he hoped to persuade the errand-runner to overlook the incident at the watermill.  It would be an interesting exercise in persuasion, anyhow; Zen considered it good practice.  
    As he turned down the street where the shop was, he could see Toya outside, opening the storefront.  Zen put on a smile and changed his pace to a leisurely stroll.  He waited until the place was open and the boy stepped into the shop to make his advent.  
    "Hello, there," he said, walking up to the storefront and waving.  
    "Ah, customers already?  You must be-" but there Toya fell silent.  He had turned and seen who was at his door, and he froze with a look of horror on his face.  
    "Don't worry," said Zen.  "I haven't come to hurt you, and I'm alone and unarmed.  In fact, I came to deliver a package for you.  From the crown prince.  May I come in?"  
    Toya's eyes narrowed.  "Why should I trust you?  You lied before.  You could be lying now."  
    "I could be, yes.  But I'm not.  Now that the situation has changed, I hoped that we could talk together.  Perhaps it would help if you didn't think of me as Chief."  He shifted the package so it was under one arm, then held out a hand.  "My name is Zen."  
    Toya's frown only deepened.  "'Three'?"  
    "It's just a nickname.  I'm a member of the Royal Guard."  
    "You tried to kill Chagum."  
    "We thought that he was posessed by a demon.  We later helped him when we realised the demon was actually a friendly spirit.  Surely the spearwielder told you all of this."  
    Toya scowled.  "She didn't bother to visit before she left for Kanbal, so no."  
    "And the herbalist didn't tell you what happened?"  
    "Did Chagum send you?"  
    "Crown Prince Chagum sent this."  Zen held out the box he carried.  "But I volunteered to deliver it.  To show you there are no hard feelings."  
    Saya walked in at that moment.  "Oh, Chief!" she said, smiling.  "We haven't seen you in so long!  When that lumber shipment was cancelled, I thought..."  She faded off, seeing Toya's expression, and her smile disappeared.  "What's wrong?"  
    "I am afraid I wasn't entirely honest about my profession," Zen said, smiling at her.  "I'm actually a member of the Royal Guard.  I'm delivering a package from the crown prince."  
    "Oh, Chagum!"  Saya's face lit up again, and she hurried to Toya's side.  "What is it?"  
    Wordlessly Toya opened the box.  His eyes doubled in size, and he glanced back at Zen, disbelieving.  
    "Oh!" gasped Saya.  "We can't accept this!"  
    "The Prince insists," said Zen politely.  
    "Isn't this just the Emperor's way of paying us off to keep us silent?" Toya said, his face stony.  
    "Not at all.  The Emperor doesn't know, in fact.  The Prince wanted to do this.  There's a note from his highness in there, as well."  
    Saya had found the note.  She scanned it quickly, then turned to Toya, beaming.  "Listen!  'I miss you both more than I can tell you'," she read aloud.  "'I'll never forget how you took me into your home when you didn't even know me, and how Saya taught me the best place to get bento, and how Toya taught me to negotiate and how to act like a normal kid.  Both of you are like siblings to me.  I can't be there with you, but at least I can try and repay you for your kindness towards me.  Please keep the money and use it to build your business!  I've included one more surprise - when you're enjoying it, hopefully it'll be a bit like I'm there, with you, enjoying it too.  Forever your nii-chan, Chagum.'  Oh, Toya!  I told you he wouldn't forget us!"  
    Toya was, quite against his will, watery-eyed, remembering the boy he'd befriended last spring and risked his life for, and all the fun they'd had together.  "I miss that kid, too," he sighed.  "What's the surprise he's talking about, though?  I only saw a pile of money!"  
    Saya's face became even more radiant.  She pulled out a silk-covered box from the bottom of the larger box and handed it to Toya.  "You open it!" she said eagerly.  
    Toya glanced over at Zen, who was still standing unobtrusively by.  "Do you know what's in here, 'Chief'?  It's not poison, is it?"  
    "No," said Zen, smiling.  "It's a gift from his highness.  I haven't seen it, but I'm sure it's safe, whatever it is."  
    Toya puffed himself up a little, still not quite ready to forgive the man for betraying him, and carefully opened the box.  At once the grown-up image he'd been trying to project collapsed.  His mouth opened into a huge kiddish grin, and tears began spilling freely from both eyes.  "Hekimooms!" he cried, sniffling.  "Oh, that kid!  He knows how to get a guy right in the heart."  
    Saya hugged him, her eyes glistening too.  "He's not dead, Toya.  I'm sure we'll be able to see him again someday.  Right, Chief?"  
    Zen shrugged.  "The Prince has many duties, and it is difficult for one of the royal family to leave the palace.  However, his highness instructed me to bring a reply, if possible.  Crown Prince Chagum wants very much to hear from you both."  
    Toya and Saya exchanged glances.  "What should we write?" Saya asked a bit shyly, looking at Toya with bright, excited eyes.  
    "Tell him the hekimooms are the best I've ever had!"  Toya had already eaten a dozen of the delicate candies, and Saya put a hand between the open box and his fingers.  
    "Don't eat them all right now!  We should save them for a special occasion!"  
    "Try one!"  Toya handed her a fistful of them, grinning.  "Chagum told us to eat them like we were sharing them with him, so that's what I'm doing."  She took them, tried one, and her face lit up.  She ate the rest eagerly.  
    After a brief candy-munching digression, Toya at last turned to Zen and said, "I guess you can come in.  Have a seat.  Saya, get some tea, please, and we'll write back to Chagum."  
    Zen entered, feeling pleased that he had won the boy over again so quickly, but knowing he owed that mostly to the Prince's package.  He drank the tea Saya poured him with slow, leisurely sips; his manners in this would have been obviously those of a noble to anyone who cared, but the Hunter was enjoying himself and knew these kids weren't going to pry into his real identity.  The delicate teacup was small for his beefy hands; he must look ridiculous drinking from it.  It made him think of his last visit home, when his daughter, a mere toddler, had demanded he play "tea ceremony" with her, and he had spent a good hour humoring the girl and smiling as broadly as he had in an age.  He had to admit to himself, he liked kids.  Going after the Prince had been the most difficult assignment he was ever given.  He'd done it, all right, but he certainly hadn't wanted to.  Now that things had been satisfactorily resolved, Zen had found himself a generally happier, more-relaxed person.  Even his wife had noticed the change.  
    "This is wonderful tea," he said to Saya when she offered him more.  "Thank you for your hospitality.  Allow me to buy some of this tea for my wife."  
    Toya glanced up.  The shrewd businessman in him had stirred awake.  "If you're buying it for your wife, Chief, you want the best.  That stuff's good enough for everyday, but you want to get her something special, don't you?"  
    "That depends on your prices."  
    Toya's eyes sparkled.  "My prices are the best in the city.  Now, what kind of tea does she like?  We could even fix you up a gift box with multiple varieties - a one-of-a-kind custom gift for your love."  He launched into the sale, touting the top-shelf varieties he had in stock and showing off silver-plated tea canisters and polished wooden boxes.  Zen could tell the boy was plying his most luxurious goods, and yet these things were still rustic compared to the sort of thing an Upper Ougi citizen might give as a present.  But the man went along with it good-naturedly.  His wife would think it was quaint, and Zen felt like paying the boy back - literally, in this case - for the scare he'd been given.  These were good kids, these street-kids-turned-shopkeeper.  He liked the feel of the shop and the earnest expressions on their faces.  Frankly, he wanted to stay here as long as possible before heading back to the palace.  So he bartered and bantered about with the boy, as he had done when he was first trying to win his trust, and ended up buying a set of four teas he felt his Sora would enjoy.  Toya filled four of the silver canisters with the teas, then packaged them in a varnished, unlacquered box with a nahji in flight carved on the front.  It was actually very pretty, Zen thought.  Sora would like it.  
    When he left, the Hunter had switched his package for a new one, plus a small rolled-up paper with the kids' letter for the Prince.  He hadn't read it - and wouldn't - but he could guess what it said.  A shame that the Prince would never get closer to them than this.  A letter was cold comfort for the lonely, no matter how long or heartfelt.  But Zen would be happy to remain their courier.


End file.
